


Pillow Talk, Global Edition

by doctor_bitchcraftt



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: ABCD tour, Adore calls Bianca after All Stars 2, Bianca is not-so-secretly adorable, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-10-13 21:28:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17495690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_bitchcraftt/pseuds/doctor_bitchcraftt
Summary: Sometimes Bianca thinks all of the most important conversations happen in hotel room beds.Ch 2-3: ABCD tourCh 4: Bianca’s side of the conversation with Katya in “A Hot Tangle”Ch 5: Interview fluffCh 6: Adore post-All Stars 2Ch 7: Courtney musing about Bianca’s wallsCh 8: Bianca worries about Adore out on tour





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feelings abound, and we get to see the more serious side of what Bianca is thinking.

Sometimes, Bianca thinks, the most important conversations in her life take place in hotel room beds.

With friends and family scattered across the country and around the globe on any given day, it’s hardly surprising that most of their communication takes place by text or call or FaceTime.  It’s also not a stretch to say that she spends almost as much of the year sleeping in other time zones as in her own bed.  And so it’s only logical that an equal proportion of conversations on the road contain important things as the ones she has from home.

Still, Bianca feels like the crisp white sheets at Marriott and Westin and a dozen other hotel chains have been privy to more intimate knowledge than her own 800 thread count, and not the physical kind.


	2. ABCD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not giving Darienne dialogue, as I don’t have a feel for her voice the same way as Adore, Bianca, and Courtney.

On the last night of the ABCD tour, four queens are piled close on Bianca’s bed despite the spacious suite around them. 

Darienne had claimed the foot of the bed as soon as they all stumbled through the door arm-in-arm, the exhilaration of their night warring with pure exhaustion.  For once, Bianca finds herself in the middle between Courtney and Adore against the headboard.  She’s surrounded by friends on all sides and can’t even pretend to summon up a semblance of complaint.  

Jamie had thoughtfully sent room service ahead of their arrival, and they start in with grateful enthusiasm (“Like starving elephants,” Bianca said deadpan, before ducking the napkin Darienne threw at her).  Plates of cheese and bowls of fruit balance on the sheets between them, threatening to tip with every burst of shared laughter.

Somewhere along the way, eating devolves into Darienne tossing grapes for Adore to catch in her mouth.  Courtney joins in after Adore’s clumsy dive over Bianca’s lap knocks a biscuit straight out of her hands.  Thankfully, all that remains of dessert are a few crumbs as they upset plates and scatter utensils in the quest to predict Darienne’s increasingly off-target throws.

Bianca leans away from the flailing elbows, giving commentary on their wine-impaired coordination while managing to keep her own glass free from the scuffle.  Eventually, Darienne runs out of fruit and the other two collapse over her legs in fits of giggles.

”I feel like a single parent chaperoning a sleepover,” she mutters, unable to keep a straight face for long.

”Shut up, you love us whores.”  Adore offers from near her shins, eyes half closed as Courtney pets her hair.

Bianca shares an amused glance with Darienne, opening her mouth to deliver a response guaranteed to make the others laugh.  Instead, what comes out is quiet and sincere.

”I miss this.”

Courtney pauses in her attempts to braid Adore’s bangs, sitting back on her heels.  “So do I,” she murmurs.  “This is...good.  Really good.”

”We’re the best fucking thing together.”  Adore untangles the duvet from her feet to wrap around her shoulders.  “I wish it was always us.”

The heat of four bodies has the room more than warm, so Bianca recognizes the unconscious need for comfort.  Darienne must have the same thought, because a moment later she catches Adore’s hand and pulls her into a hug.  

Adore’s sea green eyes are brighter than usual with the beginning of tears misting over.  Courtney joins the embrace, and Bianca has to bite her own lip to stifle the lump rising in her throat.

She has to climb over the tray and Courtney’s legs to reach them, but it’s worth it as they share watery smiles.

Later, when Darienne is snoring under a blanket near her feet, Bianca leans back on the headboard and considers that sometimes conversations don’t need words.  Courtney shifts against her shoulder, sinking further into the pile of pillows behind them, bent knees crooked around Darienne’s head.  

Bianca looks down to where Adore is using her hip for a pillow (and that can’t possibly be comfortable), before leaning over Courtney to switch off the light.  Adore murmurs in discontent as she shimmies over the sheets to lie flat, falling silent once Bianca rearranges their limbs until she’s cuddled against her chest instead.  Pulling the duvet over them both, she settles in, listening to the rhythm of Courtney’s breathing and Adore’s heartbeat at her side.

They sleep.

 


	3. ABC

Bianca wakes up with Courtney’s foot in her ribs and a clattering echo in her ears.  Opening her eyes, she identifies the source of the sound as the room service tray bouncing off the wall.  A quick glance to the foot of the bed confirms that Darienne is gone, probably back to her room to pack.  The swoosh of air from the door closing likely knocked the tray to the floor.

She has a full schedule ahead, a photoshoot and filming promo material for Wembley, plus pulling the ABCD together one more time to tape Courtney’s Christmas special.  They have a little more time in each other’s company before scattering across the globe yet again, but the lump is back in her throat at the thought of separation.  

Adore is still snuggled close, somehow having managed to wind both arms and legs around Bianca during the night.  Stretching causes her to bump Courtney with her elbow, who mutters something indistinct into the pillows before rolling over and cuddling against Bianca’s other side.

Tucked under the messy covers with her nearest and dearest is a memory she carefully stores away for sleepless nights.

Some time later, Jamie lets himself in to collect luggage and fill Bianca in on last minute details.  Catching sight of the three entangled on the bed, he slowly backs out of the room and closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written while waiting in line at IKEA. Seriously.


	4. A Hot Tangle, Bianca’s story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation for what Katya heard over the phone in Chapter Six of ‘A Hot Tangle’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be a conversation between A and B, but morphed into something else entirely. 
> 
> Italicized text taken from ‘A Hot Tangle’.

 It’s a rare evening, both of them in the same zip code.  Hurricane Bianca touches down at 5:00 pm and Adore is flying out at 8:30 the next morning, but they’re determined to make it work.

Adore and a skinny latte are waiting for her at Delta’s baggage claim, artfully cut up hoodie hiding her face from passing fans.  The wait for her luggage is mercifully brief for once, and the Uber ride to the hotel spent in comfortable silence.

Bianca checks in to the room booked months in advance, thanking the front desk staff while pocketing her key.  Instead of pressing the button for the eighth floor though, she leans against Adore’s shoulder until the elevator stops with a chime on the fifth.  She follows Adore straight off the elevator and down the hall, their footsteps muffled on the carpet.

Predictably, Adore’s room looks like a tornado swept through while leaving all of the furniture and fixtures miraculously intact.  Makeup is strewn over the table in front of the mirror, lipsticks with their lids off mingling with open palettes of eyeshadow.  A set of lashes is stuck to the bra hanging off the back of the chair, and drag is draped over every available surface.  

The complete disarray is oddly comforting as Bianca locates an empty patch of carpet for her luggage.  She turns around to find Adore sweeping makeup into her bag, seemingly not bothered by the jumble of supplies.  

“You know, it would be easier to find things in there if you actually organized it.”  It’s a routine quasi-read, delivered with the same half smile over the years.

Adore wipes her hands on her hoodie, leaving glittering streaks of burnt orange and aqua blue across the front.  The grin she offers in return is one of Bianca’s favorites, tongue poking out over her lower lip and eyes full of mischief.  Even though she’s just gotten off a plane and wants nothing more than to collapse on the bed, Bianca silently joins in the packing process.  Together they manage to fit everything back into the suitcases, Bianca’s neatly folded bundles a contrast to tights stuffed in every corner and mismatched shoes squashed over the top.

When all that’s left out are the boy clothes she’s wearing on the plane tomorrow and a single cosmetic bag, Adore shoves her towards the bathroom.  Bianca knows it’s more for her own comfort than criticism of her cleanliness; missing a few showers would hardly bother Adore.  It’s a small gesture, but one of many that she appreciates more and more as time goes on.

Bianca takes her time cleaning up, washing off the weariness of airports and travel.  It’s just before 7:30 when she emerges to find Adore sprawled across the bed on her phone.  

There’s a few missed texts from Courtney in the group chat, something about staying the night with Trixie and Katya.  Bianca reads them over, sends a few Russian flags and pink flowers mixed with clown emojis, then shoulders Adore out of the way so she can have her share of the pillows.  

She’s content to close her eyes for a little while, listening to Adore typing on her phone and willing the tension in her lower back to unwind.  Bianca must have dozed off, because Adore is nudging her awake and shoves her phone in front of her face.

”B, look!”

Bianca blinks a few times, pushing the hand six inches further back so she can focus on the screen.  “ ‘Trixya kai kai in progress’ ,” she reads out loud, “ ‘you cunts owe me $100’ ”

She grabs her own phone, channeling more crankiness into the texts than strictly necessary.

 **Bianca/Roy:** ...

 **Adore/Danny** : WTF, why couldn’t they have waited until next month?

 **Bianca/Roy** : Bitch, you woke me up for THIS?????????? 

Glancing over Adore’s shoulder, she can see the beginnings of a crack about her age.  She grabs for the phone and a minor scuffle ensues, during which Adore’s phone flies out of her hands and squarely into Bianca’s.

**Adore/Danny** : Old people go to bed early :P  htjjjjjjjjjjnn llmnnjbnnbbh

Bianca triumphantly stuffs the phone under one thigh before replying.

 **Bianca/Roy** : Pizza party just lost her phone privileges.

Adore is pouting but it’s clearly for show as she leans in to read Bianca’s screen instead.  

 **Bianca/Roy** : Hello?HELLO???

They wait expectantly for Courtney’s reply, but not even the dotted indicator that she’s typing pops up.

”This is ridiculous, we’re not a bunch of teenagers spreading high school rumors,” Bianca mutters, scrolling through her contacts and tapping the one marked **Courtney/Shane J (ABCD)**.

The phone rings longer than usual, and when the call connects it’s not Courtney’s hybrid Australian-American accent on the other end.

”Bonnie Del Rico,” comes the greeting, and Bianca’s eyebrows fly up in surprise.  

“Katya.”  Adore makes a confused noise beside her.  “Since you’re answering, this is either some elaborate joke you’re all in on-“

”Are they all fucking?” Adore’s stage whisper is far too excited by the prospect, and Bianca smacks her shoulder in exasperation.

”-or,” she picks up as if the interruption hadn’t happened, “you really are Russian and we’ll never find the body.  Then I don’t have to worry about her putting more fingerprints on my crown.”

”But you put it in a box, she can’t touch it now.”  Adore doesn’t seem fazed by Bianca’s glare.

Katya is silent for longer than expected, long enough that Bianca considers ending the call and dialing her directly. 

“Bonnie Del Rico,” Katya’s voice returns, “is there something going on on your end with a certain Ms. Delano?”

Well, that was unexpected.  She laughs, buying time to come up with a reply.  Bianca was always under the impression that the other queens in their Drag Race family knew about and understood their unconventional, label-defying dynamic.  

“None of your business, and no.”  Adore is still staring at her impatiently, and Bianca reaches out before dropping her hand to the bed.

Katya’s response sounds far too close to defeated.  “Nothing here either.”

She’s heard countless “will they/won’t they” whispers in dressing rooms.  Bianca doesn’t generally make it her business to know other queens’ business unless it affects her (or Adore, in all honesty) or seems public enough to work into her stage material.  Trixie and Katya though, everyone notices and wonders.

Bianca has a few theories of her own, but now isn’t the time to air them.  Behind Katya’s wild Russian hooker persona, she’s astute and far too honest.  She and Trixie have to come to some sort of understanding though, before the tension brings their friendship down in flames.

”Queen,” she pitches her voice as softly as possible, “let me give you some advice?”

”Sure.”

”You decide if it’s worth it,” Bianca isn’t completely sure that the words are only for Katya, “and if you two can live with whatever the answer is.”

Adore has been oddly silent, mouth snapping shut at Bianca’s last reply.  She squeezes her hand then with a sort of urgency that Bianca isn’t sure she’s ready to understand.  “B-“

Bianca shakes her head gently.  Not now.

”We didn’t hear anything,” she tells Katya firmly, “and I’ll make sure Courtney doesn’t make trouble.Now give her the phone back,” her voice takes on a stronger edge, “and figure this shit out.”

 “Goodnight, Bianca.You always were my favorite clown.”

That earns a chuckle.  “Fuck off, whore.  Let me talk to Courtney?”

When she ends the call a half hour later, Adore is dozing and clinging to her arm like a lifeline.  Bianca sets both phones on the nightstand with a yawn and stretches her aching neck, debating whether to forego getting ready for bed and just turning off the light.  The motion shakes Adore awake though, and she relinquishes her arm long enough for Bianca to brush her teeth.

Once she climbs back under the covers however, Adore is back in her personal space, foreheads resting together on the pillow.

”B?” 

“Yeah?”

”We’re ok, right?”

Bianca frowns, hating the insecurity making Adore’s voice quiver.  There are at least a dozen ways she could reply, varying from levity to scoffing at the notion that they could ever be _not okay._

 _”_ You’re my favorite person,” she answers.  It’s a non-answer and hardly everything she wants to say, isn’t sure they could ever explain the ‘we’ of Adore-and-Bianca, but it seems to satisfy her.

She smiles then, not a full out Adore grin for the cameras, but something smaller and gentler, and Bianca kisses her forehead before rolling onto her back.  

“Love you.”  Adore’s words are a drowsy whisper against her shoulder.

”Love you too, chola.”  

 

_**** Katya’s POV ****_

_Katya swipes her thumb across Bianca’s grinning face and brings the phone to her ear._

_“Bonnie Del Rico.”There’s a pause on the other end, but Bianca recovers swiftly._

_“Katya.  Since you’re answering, this is either some elaborate joke you’re all in on,” a slapping noise echoes down the line followed by a muffled but distinctly Adore-sounding complaint.  “-or,” Bianca continues, “you really are Russian and we’ll never find the body.  Then I don’t have to worry about her putting more fingerprints on my crown.”_

_Bianca’s sharp voice eases a knot of tension between her shoulder blades.She knows the other queen is a consummate professional behind the thorny exterior, and hopes she’ll understand._

_Courtney is sitting on the couch now, chewing her lip.Katya thinks she deserves to be nervous._

_“Bonnie Del Rico, is there something going on on your end with a certain Ms. Delano?”Katya has to pull the phone away from her ear as Bianca’s scratchy laugh breaks up into static._

_“None of your business, and no.”The last part is said in a quieter tone, and she can hear the rustling of sheets as if Bianca is settling back into bed._

_She needs to go after Trixie, because it’s been suspiciously quiet in the bathroom.“Nothing here either,” she sighs._

_“Queen, let me give you some advice?”  Bianca’s voice is the gentlest she’s ever heard._

_“Sure.”_

_“You decide if it’s worth it, and if you two can live with whatever the answer is.”_

_Adore’s voice murmurs indistinctly in the background, and Katya knows there’s more that Bianca isn’t saying.(That’s a fish to fry another day, or an egg to put in the basket, or some other metaphor that her tired brain isn’t spewing out.)_

_“We didn’t hear anything, and I’ll make sure Courtney doesn’t make trouble.Now give her the phone back and figure this shit out.”_

_The tightness in her chest loosens, just a little.“Goodnight, Bianca.You always were my favorite clown.”_

_“Fuck off, whore.”Her tone is strangely affectionate, almost kind.“Let me talk to Courtney?”Katya tosses the phone over, and exhales a painful sigh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you’d like to see what Bianca and Courtney’s conversation (while Katya is talking to Trixie in the bathroom in ‘A Hot Tangle’) sounded like.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t lay claim to any of what Bianca says here (which really, makes it all even better). All dialogue is direct quotes from a 2014 interview Bianca did with Metro Weekly https://www.metroweekly.com/2014/06/rupauls-drag-race-winner-bianca-del-rio.

The good thing about phone interviews, Bianca mused, is that you don't have to be in the same time zone as the interviewer, and no one can see that you're taking the call in a worn out t-shirt with unstyled hair.

Bianca settled against the pillows stacked behind her, trying to make sure that her answers were thoughtful and honest.  So far, the questions had been predictable, but the guy from Metro Weekly was cheerful and really, she still couldn’t believe that this was her post-Drag Race life, that people were seeking her out for interviews.  

"Have you been able to find time to have a personal life and relationship?"  The writer's voice was non-judgmental, and she could tell he wasn’t digging for anything racy.  She couldn’t say the same for others.

 **"** I’ve been in two really long relationships," she started, smiling ruefully at the memories the statement evoked.  "But I’ve been single for seven years, and I wouldn’t have it any other way right now. If something comes along, sure. But I’m a workhorse. I like to work." Bianca chuckled at her own expense, keeping the tone light.  

"And I have amazing friends that I see that keep me grounded and keep my sanity."  Not nearly as often as she or they would like, she added silently.  

Bianca crossed and uncrossed her ankles, searched for the right words to describe her life without making it sound like a complaint.  "But with this world it’s not so much as what I want, it’s if I find someone, are they going to put up with what’s going on?" 

The writer gave a hum of acknowledgement, and she was relieved that it didn’t seem to contain any misplaced sympathy.  He didn’t rush to fill the silence either, giving her space to continue.

Bianca tried not to dwell on that part, the part of her that sometimes wondered what might happen if she could just stop *moving* so much. 

"You’re flying everywhere, and you’re in and out of town. So it’s hard to commit, and I don’t like to commit to something unless I can do it properly. But we shall see," she finished firmly.  No one could ever reliably accuse Bianca (or Roy) of half-assing.

The next question though, veered completely out of any potentially maudlin territory.  "I wanted to ask you specifically about Adore. I know you two are great friends now, and you’re sort-of her mentor in a way. Do you mind her calling you her drag mother?"

She felt the grin stretching her lips at the mention of Adore, and didn’t bother to keep the smile out of her voice.

 **"** I’ve never been a drag mother and I’ve never had one. But when it comes to Adore, all bets are off! I adore her,” she laughed at the very intentional pun, “Adore is an amazingly brilliant, talented performer.  We got to know each other really well through the show. It’s been a great ride being friends with her, and I love her to death.”  

“She’s extremely talented. We clicked, which was great. Courtney I had known prior to the show, and we always clicked. But with Adore, it was nice, refreshing and a great surprise. Cause I didn’t know if I’d have something in common with a 23-year-old at the time,” which was a massive understatement, “So it’s been great to become friends, and when we get to go out of town and see each other, it’s amazing. And we laugh our asses off.”  Bianca was aware of the praise she was heaping on a fellow queen wouldn’t go unnoticed.  Courtney and Darienne in particular were going to give her hell once the interview was published.

“So look,” her voice softened, “anything Adore needs, I’m there for her.”  

Later, Bianca would wonder if she should have stopped there.  In the moment though, it seemed very important to add one last thing.

“She’s a great person. She can call me whatever the hell she wants. I’m very proud of her."


	6. All Stars Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adore calls Bianca after leaving All Stars 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joslyn Fox said it best when she told Adore that she didn’t need All Stars to be as amazing as she is. (Starting at 6:08 on https://youtu.be/UkZ_Aw-n-Z0)
> 
> This is what Bianca might have said. Companion piece to Chapter Three of "Fearless and Fun".
> 
> The chapter got away from me a bit in terms of complexity and length, but I think the result was worth it.

Bianca's phone buzzes to life on the nightstand at 2:41 am.  Normally, she’d let it go to voicemail and deal with whatever it was in the morning, whether it was Bunny testing a new insult, or one of her fellow queens drunk dialing.  Something nudges at the edge of her intuition tonight though, and she reaches out to answer.

Adore’s close-lipped, sassy smile lights up the screen.  For a moment it’s business as usual; middle of the night phone calls were a regular occurrence from her, and Bianca breathes out a put-upon but affectionate sigh.  Swiping her thumb across, she puts the call on speaker.

”What’s it this time?  You lock yourself out again?”

Instead of a cheerfully irreverent reply, she’s greeted with hitched breathing she recognizes as holding back tears.

Fully awake, Bianca switches off the speaker and presses the phone to her ear with concern.  Without drowsiness fuzzing her brain, she remembers that Adore is supposed to be filming for at least the next four weeks.

”Adore.”  Her voice comes out rough with sleep, but urgent.  

More rapid breaths, coupled with barely audible whimpers.  Bianca recognizes the sound of someone who’s cried so hard they’re in the midst of hyperventilating.  She’s been the shoulder for enough of their sisters to cry on over the years that the sound is far too familiar.

”Hey,” she pitches her words in as gentle and calm a tone as possible.  “Adore, I need you to breathe, okay?  In and out, there, that’s it my love.  Steady.  Shhhhhh.”

She whispers soothing nothings across the line until the breathless gasps give way to uneven but slower exhales.  Turning on the bedside lamp hardly matters right now, but listening to her crying in the dark is too much, not when every instinct is screaming for her to protect and fix whatever it might be.

”B.”  Adore’s voice is so small and raw that Bianca swears she can feel her heart twist.

”I’m here.”

”I fucked up.”

Bianca knows better than to ask if everything is okay when it’s clearly the complete opposite.  She suppresses the urge to ask how and why Adore is calling in the middle of filming when all of the queens should be completely sequestered.  If anyone could find a way to slip around the rules, it would be Adore.

“We all do, sometimes.  Can you tell me what happened?”

More sniffling, then, “You’re gonna be so mad at me...”

Confused but desperate to keep the tears from escalating again, Bianca murmurs, “What, did you break my corset?”

When Adore doesn’t respond to the gentle tease, she knows it’s more than messing up a challenge.  The thought of her being eliminated already seems completely impossible - Bianca isn’t supposed to, but she’s seen the cast list and knows Adore is more than a match for the other queens.  Katya and Alaska in particular would be a challenge, but she has full confidence in her ability to win out over the likes of Phi Phi and Coco.

”...’ped out.”

”What?”  

Silence, then Adore breaks into sobs again.  “I’m sorry B, I’m sorry...”

”There’s nothing to be sorry for, nothing.”  Bianca thinks she’s never felt so helpless in her life.  

”I quit.”

Bianca blinks once, twice, sure she’s heard it wrong.

Adore must take her silence as condemnation, because her next words are filled with self-loathing.  

“I fucking quit, and you’re gonna be so disappointed and I’m sorry B, I’m so sorry I fucked up, you were right and I should have listened and I couldn’t do it and it was all wrong-“ She pauses, and Bianca is quick to cut in.

”Whoa, breathe for me.  Breathe.  There is no way you could ever disappoint me.  Ever.  Do you need me to fly out?”  Part of her mind is already calculating how long it would take to get to the airport, which flights would be leaving from La Guardia.  She’ll have to cancel tomorrow night’s show, but this is Adore and she _matters_.  

“I can be there by-“ she checks the time, “-noon.”

“...no.  You can’t.  You’re on tour and...and...”

”Adore.  My love.  If you need me there, everyone else can fuck off.”  She’s made a living off being unassailably professional, no matter the circumstances.  But weighing her audience’s disappointment and anger if she cancels against the anguish in Adore’s voice, the choice is clear.

She listens to Adore breathing raggedly for a count of fifty.

Then, “No, B, I’ll be okay.  I just...” Adore heaves a deep sigh.  “I just don’t know what to do.  I’ve let so many people down.  You, Ru, everyone.”

Bianca chews her lip, trying to think of what to say next.

”Tell me what happened?”

”Just...Michelle and Raven came down so hard, like, they didn’t say anything about my singing.  All they talked about was how messy I was, how much they hated what I was wearing, that I wasn’t enough of a queen.”

”Raven?” Bianca isn’t sure she’s heard that right, because Raven is in town, she’d seen her at a local club the night before.

”Not our Raven.  The actress.”  Another sigh, one that sounds like she’s covering her face. 

It’s a struggle to keep her voice level, but she does for Adore’s sake.  “She’s a fucking idiot.”

“Like, it wasn’t even her that was the worst.  I wore the dress you helped me pick out.  And Michelle...Michelle hated everything.  And, I can’t change who Adore is, I won’t change her into some prissy pageant bitch.”  

Adore draws in a ragged breath and continues.  “This is me, Bianca, and it just felt like, like it didn’t matter what else I did.  They didn’t care about anything else.  And I can’t.  Adore isn’t just a character, she’s a part of me.”

Bianca feels white hot anger boiling up into her chest as Adore speaks.  

Unlike other queens, Adore isn’t only a mask of makeup and hair and fishnets that Danny puts on for a show.  How many times had she stepped in because of Michelle and her well-meaning but completely off the mark critiques?  The BOTS tour had given her ample chance to see Adore in action, performing her heart to the audience, and she should understand.  She’d made it more than clear to Michelle that she might not get what Adore did, but she sure as hell had to respect her drag.

“So...I just couldn’t stay.  Not when everything felt wrong.  Like I know people are going to think I’m a quitter, but...”

Bianca blows out a long breath, forcing the anger back down.  

“Fuck anyone who thinks that.  They don’t deserve to know you if they can’t understand.”

“I just...after the tour, I thought it would be different with Michelle?  You told me, and I didn’t listen.”

”It’s a reality tv show about drag queens.  I said that to you because-” saying anything remotely related to ‘I told you so’ is probably the worst thing she could do right now.  She picks her next words carefully.  “-because Drag Race isn’t important.”

”You won though...and I quit.”

How can Bianca get her to understand when they’re thousands of miles apart?  This is a conversation that really should be in person, where Adore can see the sincerity on her face.  Where she can hug her and make it so she isn’t crying alone.

Bianca makes a decision and pulls the phone away from her ear long enough to tap the FaceTime icon.  When it connects, she’s greeted by Adore’s wobbly attempt at a smile. 

“Hi, B.”  She’s looking slightly away from the camera, avoiding the virtual eye contact.

”Hi yourself.”  Bianca adjusts the angle she’s holding the phone until her face is out of shadow.  “Look at me, please?”

Slowly, Adore brings her chin up.  Her reddened eyes and swollen, flushed face make  Bianca’s chest ache.

”I won, but you could have.  Should have.”  Bianca is endlessly grateful for her crown and the unimaginable opportunities, but...

“You grew so much on our season.  So much.  You listened and applied it, and stayed true to Adore.  And that,” she finishes softly, “is why so many people love you, because you’re real to them.  You don’t need to win a contrived competition to shine, because you already do.”

”I...” Adore hiccups and scrubs a hand over her eyes, “...why did you let me go?”  

It’s not accusatory at all, and Bianca knows she owes her a complete answer.

”It was always your choice.  It’s not up to me or your mom or RuPaul to tell you what success looks like.  And there was every chance I was being too cynical.  It wouldn’t have been fair to take that away from you.”

”...I guess...maybe.  I still should have listened.”  Adore doesn’t sound completely convinced, but Bianca thinks it’s enough for now.  

She chances a careful tease.  “Queen, I don’t think you’re ever going to listen to me.”

That earns the tiniest of watery giggles, and the knot in her chest starts to unwind just a little.  

“Where are you now?”

Adore pulls the phone back far enough that Bianca recognizes the sheets and headboard.  She doesn’t bother trying to hide her affectionate chuckle that Adore is sitting on Bianca’s own bed.  

“Bitch, I should have known.”

“I needed to get away from people.”  A small but genuine smile tugs at Adore’s lips.  “And...I dunno, it feels safe here.”

”You going to be okay?  I can be on a flight back in a couple of hours.  Just tell me and I’ll be there.”

Adore shakes her head, shifting back against the pillows.  “No, you’re on tour.  I...I’ll be fine.  Well,” she huffs a self-deprecating laugh, “close enough.”

”All right.”

”B?” Adore leans close to the phone again.  “I...thank you.  For everything.”

”Always.”  Bianca tries to suppress a yawn, but doesn’t quite succeed.

”Fuck, what time is it for you there?”  Adore turns her head to glance at the clock.  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Bianca is already shaking her head.  “S’fine.  I’ll sleep in later is all.”

”You don’t sleep in.”  Adore sounds more like herself for the first time since Bianca answered the phone.  

“You’re more important.”

The smile she receives is the barest upturn at the corners of Adore’s mouth, but it melts away the knot of unease.  

“I’m okay.  Go back to sleep.”

”Goodnight, chola.”

”Goodnight B.  I love you.”  Adore blows a kiss at the camera.

”Love you too.”

 

(Read what happens when Bianca makes it home in [Fearless and Fun:Lost My Crown](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570858/chapters/41678567))


	7. Not So Chilly Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ABC moment early on post-Drag Race offering a glimpse of Courtney’s well-meant honesty about Bianca’s walls.

“I don’t get it.”

Courtney’s voice is contemplative, and Bianca turns from setting her glass on the nightstand to find her frowning slightly.  

“Get what?”  She’s careful not to jostle Adore, asleep between them and still loosely gripping Courtney’s hand resting on the covers.

”People are usually something I can figure out.    People like us,” a jerk of her chin indicates the three of them, “are always more complicated, but the more you know them, it’s easier to see.”

Bianca nods, unsure of where the train of thought is headed but too warm and comfortable to object.  They’re sharing the bed in Courtney’s room with the casual disregard for personal space that’s come to define their friendship.

”What I can’t figure out though, is you.”

”Me?”

”You.”

”You’ll have to be more specific.”  There’s a bemused half smile tugging at her lips.  Courtney can be by turns, remarkably profound and frustratingly persistent once she’s latched onto a topic.

“Your drag,” comes the response.  “See, for me it’s about giving that part of myself a chance to be on the outside for a while, to let Courtney interact with people.  And Adore...is also living inside Danny.  She’s just a different face to put on the person whether she’s in drag or out of it.

”You though, it’s different.”

Bianca leans back on the pile of pillows, smile fading away into a curiously blank expression for a few moments before she huffs out a self-deprecating laugh.

”I’m a clown in a gown, that’s all.  I’ve got better hair than the rest of you, but that’s it.”

”That’s what you say to them,” her free hand waves vaguely in the air over the side of the bed, “but really, what’s going on in your head?”

”I’m not sure what you’re asking?”  Bianca tries one more time to bring the conversation back to the lighthearted banter from before Adore drifted off.  “If I’d known cheap white wine made you this analytical, I’d have shipped a case home with you.”

Unfortunately, Courtney doesn’t pick up the joke and let her deflect.

“What I’m saying is, I can see where the queen comes from and how the drag character relates to the person underneath...Adore and Courtney, are more like extensions of us.”  Her voice drops briefly into Shane’s register before picking back up Courtney’s smoother tone.

”You both feel like actual women in drag,” Bianca shrugs, “Bianca is what I paint on to get away with what I say.  She’s not supposed to be a real woman.”

”See that’s the thing though.  It’s not just that.  Other queens, the line between boy and woman is more or less clear.”  

Adore stirs and Courtney pauses, smoothing down messy hair with her free hand until she settles again, before looking back up.

“You’re you but you’re not.  Bianca is so different from you even though you say you’re the same.” She waves her hand again, gesturing across the duvet. “And it’s not just being able to make the jokes.  It’s like she’s the person you want to be sometimes, but are afraid of.

”When you’re like this,” Courtney’s frown deepens, “you act like no one will ever notice you in a crowd.  But Bianca has to control the room, has to be the loudest.  Everything about her is designed to attract attention but keep people at arms’ length.”

”I told you, years of working in bars-“ Bianca needs to steer to conversation away from herself.  Himself.  Right then he wishes he had on her face and corset to add a layer of defense against Courtney’s words.

“It’s not that complicated,” he insists, “I just like making people laugh.”

”Roy.”  Shane is back, even though he’s still wearing the remainders of Courtney’s mascara and a few smears of glitter.  “It’s okay.  You don’t have to hide anything.“

“Bitch, we can’t all be mascara and chapstick queens.  This mug,” he shakes his head, “isn’t ever going to be pretty.”

”Bianca is though,” Shane insists, “the way you paint is art, even when you’re putting on five pairs of lashes.  The body you create is perfectly feminine.  Dare I say,” he quirks an eyebrow, “she’s even fishier than I am.”

He blinks slowly, mind racing for a reply.  What Shane is saying doesn’t make sense, but it also hits far too close to home.

”Okay, yeah, this long in I’ve learned a few things about padding.  And sure, Bianca is louder than I am because she’s a drag queen...we’re supposed to be exaggerated.”

“What,” Shane’s voice is soft, “are you protecting?  This is just us, no one else.”

“Where’s this all coming from?”

Shane won’t let him look away.  “I know people, and I want to understand.”

There’s nothing but kindness in those piercing blue eyes, no sense of malice.  He shrugs one shoulder, pulling the duvet higher.

”Bianca is what people want her to be.  If I could say the same things out of drag with the same response, I would.”

”I don’t think you’d let people see you as you are like this.”

Adore is wearing a hoodie despite them being under the covers, and he fidgets with the drawstring.  

“I like to keep my personal life private.  I’m not afraid of anything.”

”So why are you always hiding behind someone in photos?  Or that pillow on your lap in Untucked.  Why does Bianca tell people not to touch her?”  

”Can we not do this right now?  It’s late and I should go.”  It’s a weak excuse, but he really doesn’t have an answer right now, not at two a.m. on too little sleep and probably too much alcohol.

”I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”  Shane sighs, eyes impossibly old for just a moment.  “But I want you to know you don’t have to pretend around us.  And,” he leans over Adore to catch his sleeve as he turns to climb off the bed, “you don’t have to leave.”

********

He waits until Shane’s breathing evens out in sleep before sliding down to lay flat, tension slowly draining from his shoulders.  It’s a lot to digest, whether he thinks Shane will bring it up again or not.  The last few years have been spent almost entirely alone in bed, and he isn’t going to refuse the invitation to stay.  

Hopefully they won’t have to talk about it in the morning.  

********

Adore gives a quiet sigh and rolls onto her side, arm thrown over Bianca’s chest and cheek resting against his arm.  When he doesn’t react, she slowly opens her eyes and contemplates his sleeping face.  She tightens her arm experimentally, pleased when he shifts closer instead of pushing her away.  

It’s no secret that she’s long considered Bianca secretly adorable, but the vulnerability and loss for words tonight is unexpected.  It’s going to mean something, she’s sure of it.  

She squashes the pang of guilt for pretending to be asleep, knowing that the conversation wouldn’t have happened otherwise.  The nudge of intuition that told her the two of them needed to have an ‘adult’ conversation was correct, even if she wanted to remind them both that she could keep her mouth shut and listen too.

There’s more that he might feel more comfortable talking about with her and not Shane someday soon.  In the meantime, Adore thinks that maybe he needs taking care of sometimes too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a different direction in this chapter. I tend to use drag names and female pronouns in drag or out because there’s something about their boy names that I don’t feel entitled to. No matter what we see on social media, we don’t really know them. 
> 
> Some, like Adore, have such a blurry line that it’s how I think of her most of the time when writing.
> 
> In this case though, switching between felt integral to the story.


	8. Guardian Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Adore's lonely tweets and the queens (excessive) partying while in Australia, suggested by jillybean2314 (Roy is concerned about his well being when the other queens have brought significant others along and makes a phone call).

"Hey, Bianca.  What's going on?"

"Manila."

"This doesn't sound like a social call."

"Bitch, you know I don't do social."

"Bullshit.  Really, what's got you calling at...three a.m. over there?"

"You've seen Adore's posts?"

"...what?  Hang on, no...she's a bit moody, but what?"

"You guys been going out without him?"

"I suppose?  Is that what this is about?"

"He's gotta watch everyone with someone, and you didn't think that he might be a little lonely?"

"Ummm.  No?  I don't know.  Since when does he need a relationship?  There's been plenty of trade going by."

"I don't trust them.  For fuck's sake, you're old enough to remember what 29 was like. I thought you would take better care of him."

"Bianca, he's an adult! And a drag queen. Not a child. We aren't trying to exclude him, he kept telling us he was fine."

"Like you always told the truth about being okay when you were his age?"

"That's the point, he's gotta learn to function on his own. You can't always be there to clean up his messes."

"Don't go there."

"Do you think anyone is stupid enough to mess with him when they know you'll tear them a new one?"

"This isn't about that."

"Then what?"

"You know where he's been, I can't let him slide back there again."

"Roy. I know you love him, but for fuck's sake..."

"What?"

"Never mind.  I don't know what you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't know!  Just...don't let him go too far?  Please."

"...all right.  You should be talking to him, not me."

"I know.  Thanks, 'Nila."

"Bianca?"

"Yeah?"

"He's lucky to have you." 


End file.
